sequences were going to rise and burst like this. The next thing
he knew he was in a pursuit, with pine-trees passing, and the hurrying
sheriff remarking to the band that he proposed to maintain order. Drylyn
heard his neighbor, a true Californian, whose words were lightest when
his purpose was most serious, telling the sheriff that order was
certainly Heaven's first law, and an elegant thing anywhere. But the
anxious officer made no retort in kind, and only said that
irregularities were damaging to the county's good name, and would keep
settlers from moving in. So the neighbor turned to Drylyn and asked him
when he was intending to wake up, as sleep-walking was considered to be
unhealthy. Drylyn gave a queer, almost wistful, smile, and so they went
along; the chatty neighbor spoke low to another man, and said he had
never sized up the true state of Drylyn's feeling for the Gazelle, and
that the sheriff might persuade some people to keep regular, when they
found the man they were hunting, but he doubted if the sheriff would be
persuading enough for Drylyn. They came out on a road, and the
sleep-walker recognized a rock and knew how far they had gone, and that
this was the stage-road between Folsom and Surprise Springs. They
followed the road, and round a bend came on the man. He had been taking
it easily, being in no hurry. He had come to this point by the stage the
night before, and now he was waiting for its return to take him back to
Folsom. He had been lunching, and was seated on a stone by a small
creek. He looked up and saw them, and their gait, and ominous
compactness. What he did was not the thing for him to do. He leaped into
cover and drew his revolver. This attempt at defence and escape was
really for the sake of the gold-dust he had in his pocket. But when he
recognized the sheriff's voice, telling him it would go better with him
if he did not try to kill any more people, he was greatly relieved that
it was not highwaymen after him and his little gold, and he put up his
pistol and waited for them, smiling, secure in his identity; and when
they drew nearer he asked them how many people he had killed already.
They came up and caught him and found the gold in a moment, ripping it
from his pocket; and the yell they gave at that stopped his smiling
entirely. When he found himself in irons and hurried along, he began to
explain that there was some mistake, and was told by the chatty neighbor
that maybe killing a wom